Now the Coffee Table Wobbles

I really fucked up this past weekend. Like in a life-ruining way, and I desperately need to get it off my chest.

Hopefully, putting it out into the void will do the trick. Forgive me if this ends up a jumbled mess. I never even post on Facebook, so this kind of thing is way out of my wheelhouse. I'm going to change names to keep this anonymous, but I know if he reads this he'll know it's about us.

But I really only care about my husband or son finding this, though it's unlikely they will.

A little backstory, I am a stay-at-home wife in my mid-forties with a college-aged son and a husband who's constantly traveling for work. It's safe to say the past few years have been boring. Most nights, I end up alone on the couch, crocheting till my fingers ache with some mindless reality show filling the painful silence.

That's where Ethan comes in.

Ethan's my son's best friend and has been forever. My husband and I are close with his parents, too. Our families spend a ton of time together. Weekend dinners, big events, even summer vacations.

The boys float between our houses like they live in both. So, Ethan raids our fridge, comes in our front door without knocking, and even strolls around in his underwear sometimes. I've only recently started to notice him as more than just my son's friend.

More like a man.

He's extremely easy on the eyes. Broad shoulders, beautifully formed muscles from a strict gym routine, dark, messy brown hair that always looks like he was caught in a windstorm, and a face that could pass as an artist's masterpiece.

But more than that, he's just effortlessly charming, with an air of cockiness that just works. The older he gets, the less it seems like he's joking around. He's starting to sound more like a man who knows he can make any woman's heart flutter.

Even mine.

He's more helpful than ever these days, too. When Ethan's around, I never have to struggle bringing groceries in alone. He helps clean up after dinner without being asked, and he even takes care of small repairs for me. Changing lightbulbs, tightening a leaky sink faucet, and helping me with little projects like painting the hallway. Way more than my son would do without being pestered to death.

Hell, he works more than my husband does around the house.

Ethan's charm doesn't stop at just being useful around the house, though.

Some things he says, little comments that almost sound like flirting. Things like complimenting new outfits. Saying my perfume smells good. Inviting me to have a drink with him late at night when my son's already passed out upstairs.

And then there's the way he looks at me. I've caught how his eyes linger and drag over my body like he's taking in every detail, but I never call him out.

Because before this weekend, I was positive there was no chance in hell he was the least bit attracted to me.

Look, I'm not going to kid myself. I'm old and not exactly in shape. I have wrinkled, saggy skin and not just on my face. And I may not be extremely fat or anything but I am chubby with a soft stomach and extra weight on my thighs and upper arms. Even when I'm just around the house, I try to hide what I can with big, shapeless t-shirts and sweaters.

Admittedly, I've stopped caring about dolling up, especially when I'm home. I usually toss my hair up in a messy bun when I roll out of bed and leave it that way all day and I don't fool with makeup unless I absolutely have to. Safe to say, I'm homely now.

Nothing like the trophy wife I started as in my twenties and thirties.

I'm not stupid either. I know my husband has noticed through the way he looks at me, when he does at all, and the off handed comments he's made here and there.

But the truth is, I can't bring myself to care. It's not like the spark has only gone out on his end.

So, there's no world where a young guy like Ethan would actually be attracted to me. Not when my own husband isn't.

I don't even want Ethan to want me. Not logically.

I've never been the type to look for other men's validation or even consider stepping out on my marriage no matter how dull things are these days. And honestly? As boring as it is, this is just my life now and I'm content with that.

Anyway, that's enough background. This is already going to be long as hell.

So, it all started Saturday night.

Everything had been normal the whole day. I'd gone grocery shopping and cooked dinner for the boys before I ended up right in my spot on the couch, as usual, already dressed for bed. Nothing sexy. Just a t-shirt I had purposely bought to be baggy and cotton shorts that came about mid-thigh. My chunky bare legs were covered with a soft throw blanket, just in case someone came in.

Since I'm burnt out with my current crocheting project, I was just sitting on the couch with the TV playing "90 Day Fiancé" in the background while I aimlessly scrolled my phone. I was considering calling it an early night. Just give up and try again the next day.

But, before I could commit to the idea of heading to bed, I heard the front door open.

Their familiar voices carried in before they even reached the living room.

"Man, I thought we were gonna have a few drinks and chill," Ethan was saying as they walked in, Julian shaking his head. Both were dressed in their gym clothes, t-shirts and basketball shorts, hair damp like they just showered.

"Hell nah," Julian mumbled, coming over to the couch and leaning over the back to plant a chaste kiss on my head. "I'm going to bed, Momma. This guy worked me to death tonight," he grumbled, obviously exhausted.

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head dismissively. "Not my fault you can't keep up."

Julian huffed but didn't respond as he turned and left the living room, footsteps echoing as he ascended the stairs.

Leaving us alone.

My gaze shifted to Ethan as he ran his fingers through his messy head of hair. That tight white t-shirt clinging to his skin, leaving little to the imagination, and those basic black basketball shorts provided a pretty decent view of his, seemingly, thick bulge. Thankfully, before I lingered too long and got caught, his voice snapped me right back to reality.

"Well... I'm not tired yet. Care if I make a drink? I'll make you one, too."

"You're going to make a drink?" I asked, keeping my tone light to mask the way he affected me by just standing there. "You know there's beer in the fridge."

Ethan gave me that stupidly charming, lopsided smile and shrugged. "I've been getting into mixing drinks lately. I'm the designated bartender at all the parties we go to now." That sounded about right. The boy always needed to stay busy, even when he was supposed to be relaxing or having fun. "Come on. Let me show off my skills a little. I'm thinking.... sex on the beach. Sound good?"

Sex on the beach.

Just hearing him say that sent an unwanted, knee-weakening lewd image flashing through my mind. I let out a small huff and rolled my eyes playfully. "Sure, knock yourself out. Don't know if we have the stuff to make it, but you're welcome to look," I answered, fixing my eyes back on the TV. "Don't make a mess."

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."

There was a teasing edge to the way he spoke to me that crawled right under my skin.

And I should've been able to brush him off. I mean, he's fucking twenty-one. I'm the same age as his mother. Everything about this was just wrong and I should've declined his offer in the first place.

But I didn't.

I let him go off to the kitchen, keeping my gaze trained on the drama unfolding on TV until I heard him rustling around the liquor cabinet. I let out a breath, trying to settle back into my dull night that was suddenly getting a bit too interesting. It was impossible to relax with the sound of Ethan making our drinks. Knowing he was about to come back and hang around didn't help.

And sure enough, he returned, two glasses of peach-colored drinks in his hands. "You had everything," he remarked with a triumphant grin as he came over and held one out to me. "Even cherries."

When I reached to take the chilled drink our fingers inevitably brushed and there was an unexpectedly intense spark that ran from my fingertips, all the way up my arm, settled hot and heavy in my chest.

Then Ethan plopped down on the couch beside me.

Not too close but closer than he had to, the aroma of his body spray strong in the air between us. It was different. Normally he would take my husband's recliner when we had late night drinks together. There was something about the simple action that felt deliberate on his end, but I tried not to think too deeply about it.

My focus shifted to my drink as I sipped it and hummed softly. "It's good."

"I brought my A-game for you, Mrs. Em," he said playfully before taking a long drink of his own. "I made a lot of these last night at that party we went to. Guess it was good practice."

"I'm surprised you aren't as worn out as Julian. How are you even still awake?" The boys were out until two in the morning and still got up early for their morning jog. Then they spent most of the day gone after that, stopping by just long enough to demolish dinner before heading back to the gym to work it all off.

Ethan shrugged, laying his arm over the back of the couch and adjusting to get more comfortable. He looked perfectly at home. Leaned back into the cushion with his legs lazily spread.

I could only dream to be that comfortable with myself, but then again, a body like his was meant to be carelessly shown off.

For a while, we just sat there chatting while watching TV and sipping our drinks. Nothing overly exciting. Mostly just about his classes and what he's been up to. And when the conversation shifted to me, he did a good job acting genuinely curious about my mundane little life.

After finishing my drink, I felt a slight warm, pleasant buzz. I wanted to melt into the couch and just enjoy the feeling but, of course, the liquid went right through me.

I needed to pee.

Without much thought, I pushed the blanket off my lap and stood. The moment I felt the air against my legs, I also felt the weight of his gaze. And my cheeks burned even hotter when I caught him staring and he didn't look away.

Didn't even pretend he was doing anything other than leering.

"Shorts?" His stunning green eyes flicked to my face, his mouth curving into a teasing smirk. "That's a nice change."

"Oh please." I laughed, rolling my eyes to cover the nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. "It's just hot today." Finally, I managed to make my legs move and started toward the hall bathroom.

Still feeling his eyes on me as I walked away.

"If it's so hot, then why are you covering up with a blanket?" he called after me, making me pause.

I looked back and caught how low his gaze was fixed. "Ethan," I warned, the smile tugging at my lips giving me away. "Behave."

He clocked it, I know he did.

He noticed that smile, the way I called him out without actually rejecting his small advances. He's too smart for his own good with this kind of thing. And he seemed to be growing more confident by the second.

"No promises." Ethan shot back before turning his attention back to the TV. Allowing me to breathe again.

Without another word, I slipped into the half bathroom and leaned against the door.

I just needed a second.

But, my mind was stuck on that moment, replaying it on repeat. The things he said, simple but way too impactful. Those bold eyes fixated on my body like it was something alluring.

Sucking in a deep breath, I managed to shake it all off and do my business. I took my time, washing my hands more thoroughly than necessary before stepping back out and noticing the couch was empty.

At first, I figured he was over it and had gone upstairs to Julian's room, but then I heard him clinking around in the kitchen.

I went over, leaning against the archway and watching Ethan make another set of drinks at the island. Crossing my arms over my chest, attempting to hide how my braless breasts sagged under my t-shirt, I couldn't help but smile.

"You're not trying to get me drunk, are you?"

Without looking up, he let out a breathy laugh. "Nah. I just want you to have a good time for once," he answered, adding the final touches to the drinks by dropping in a few cherries.

Then his gaze settled on me and I straightened slightly, catching how his eyes dropped slightly to where my arms were folded.

My cheeks were beginning to burn again as Ethan came around the island, standing a little too close as he offered me one of the glasses. Forcing me to move at least one arm while shamelessly staring at my chest. My fingers slid over his as I took it, my touch lingering a bit longer than needed.

That was when I knew things were getting out of hand too quickly. Though I kept telling myself there was no reality where this young man was actually interested. No. At that point I fully assumed he was just messing around.

Being a little shit.

"You're attentive tonight," I commented, turning to go back to the safety of the couch. Getting settled back in the worn dip of the cushion created over time, I reached for the throw blanket as my eyes drifted. Landing right on the crotch of Ethan's shorts as he came over.

For a moment, I was mesmerized by how his bulge bounced slightly as he walked, something I should've been immune to but suddenly had my mouth watering.

Before I could cover myself again, Ethan leaned over and tugged the blanket away. "Hmm, you think so? I'm just chilling, Mrs. Em. Going with the flow," he said with a faint chuckle, sitting just a hair closer than before.

"I think you're catching the wrong flow," I said, trying to force myself to simmer down. But even with that warning in the air, he didn't shift away. No, Ethan actually got more comfortable in his spot, sliding a strong arm over the back of the couch, right behind me.

"Am I?"

That cocky little question hung between us for a long beat and I watched as his eyes boldly ran down my body, taking me all in. Making me even more self-conscious as my heart thumped hard in my chest. He had really stopped trying to hide it at all.

This boy was absolutely flirting with me but what I didn't understand was... why?

With a huff, I shook my head. "Ethan," I snapped, shooting him a brief glare. "You're fucking with me. Stop it."

That stopped him in his tracks. His gaze lifted back to mine, eyebrows lifting. "Fucking with you?" he repeated, clearly not following. "Mrs. Em... I'm not fucking with you. I'm just... appreciating you."

There was a pause. Thick and heavy, lingering as our eyes stayed locked. Ethan's edge faltered with his admission, a flicker of vulnerability in his expression as he waited for my response.

Finally, I let out a quiet sigh and looked away. "You can't... appreciate me like that. I'm married. And twice your age."

I could feel his weight shifting just a bit, leaning back into the cushion heavier. "I know," he mumbled. "But I can't help it."

I didn't know what to say. How to smooth this over and keep things grounded. It was like my mind had short-circuited. "Please. I'm just sitting here dressed like a slob."

That got a quiet laugh out of Ethan. He relaxed, letting his legs spread just enough for his knee to brush mine. "You don't look like a slob. You look comfortable," he corrected in an amused tone. "And I like that."

My eyes rolled once again. "Look, just stop. I see what kind of girls you bring around. They're young, pretty, put together, and.... skinny." I couldn't look at him, my gaze falling to my lap.

"Those are just the ones you've met. I date all kinds of women. Sometimes older women." It was almost annoying how smooth Ethan could be at a time like this. Like what was happening barely fazed him at all. "They aren't always skinny, either. More often than not..." His arm slid a little closer behind me, the warmth of it pressing against the back of my neck. "They have something extra to hold onto."

My voice caught in my throat as I scrambled for a rebuttal to shut him down. But, I was fighting the side of me that wanted him to keep going.

And keep going he did.

Ethan leaned in dangerously close, his lips nearly brushing the shell of my ear. "You know what got me into thick women?" he murmured, breath tickling my skin and causing a shiver to shoot down my spine. "Watching you the past few years."

Slowly, Ethan leaned forward and set his drink on the coffee table in front of us. Then he was right back in my ear, his nose grazing my skin so gently it made my breath catch.

"I remember what did it for me first," he mumbled. "Those jean shorts you wore to our graduation party. Couldn't keep my eyes off you," he said it like it was nothing. Like ogling his best friend's mother was no big deal.

"I kept waiting for Mr. Em to catch me. But he doesn't really pick up on that kind of thing...does he?" Ethan asked, a thread of playfulness in his voice. "Guys like him always forget how lucky they are."

"Ethan..." My voice was shaky, giving away exactly what he was doing to me as I squeezed my thighs together. The heat between us was dropping. Settling right in my lap where it didn't need to be.

With confidence I could never imagine, his big hand came to my knee, squeezing softly before dragging higher to my lower thigh and gliding back down. "I want you, Mrs. Em," his admission came out in a deep rough voice. "I don't give a fuck if it's wrong."

His words had my mind far more clouded than the drinks. I couldn't even attempt to think of something to come back with.

Then I felt it.

A slick warmth as his tongue flicked at my earlobe. The gasp that slipped out gave away just how good it felt and only seemed to build his confidence as he pulled my earlobe between his lips, sucking gently before letting it pop free.

"Just give me a chance." With every word, his mouth brushed against my ear, slow and shameless. "I can show you things he's never even thought of..." He paused, catching the shell of my ear with his lips, sliding his tongue over sensitive skin before letting go. "And I've got the stamina to go as long as it takes."

All the while, his hand grew bolder, sliding higher up my thigh before drifting back down slowly. "You want me, too," he said, voice heavy and wrapping around me like fog. "Don't you?"

"E-Ethan... we can't." I finally got out, my hand wrapping around his wrist to stop him. He did pause, but his hand stayed right where it was, resting warm on my bare leg.

"That's the fun of it," he chuckled, mouth drifting from my ear to press a soft, lingering kiss on my cheek. "I've seen how you look at me. When you don't think I'm paying attention."

I didn't even try to argue. He'd caught me red handed. The heat between my legs grew more intense, throbbing as he spoke. While still gripping his wrist, I turned my head and our eyes locked.

I'd never seen Ethan like this.

So hungry for something he should never want.

"Christopher could come home any moment," I whispered, knowing already it was a weak excuse.

A playful smirk tugged on his mouth as he leaned in, pressing our foreheads together. "Come on, Mrs. Em," he murmured, his stare sliding down to my lips. "He's across the country at some boring conference. No way he's coming home in the middle of the night."

He had me right where he wanted me. His breath warm against my mouth while my thoughts were all twisted up. Completely out of arguments as to why we shouldn't do this. Not that he had to do much convincing. What little restraint I had left snapped and I leaned in, closing the gap between us as I kissed him.

It was simple at first. Just our mouths pressed to one another. Ethan's hand wiggled out of my hold and came to rest on the back of my neck. His head tilted, lips moving against mine, urging them open slightly before he slid his tongue along the small parting, not quite going in. Just hovering. Waiting.